Vielgeprüftes Österreich
by Kuroshii
Summary: Roderich Edelstein has been assigned to a diary by his therapist to "sort out his complicated sex life". He himself isn't very fond of doing this, but has to do it anyways. - Mentions of Austria/Hungary, Prussia/Austria, Germany/Austria and Switzerland/Austria


**Title:** Vielgeprüftes Österreich (Much-tried Austria)  
**Author:**** kuroikuroshii**  
**Pairing:** Mentions of PrussiaXAustria, GermanyXAustria and SwitzerlandXAustria  
**Rating:** M  
**Warnings:** Mentions of sexual intercourse, dogs watching, human names, German words  
**Description:** Austria has been assigned to a diary by his therapist to "sort out his complicated sex life". Austria himself isn't very fond of doing this, but has to do it anyways.

**Notes:** De-anoning from the kink meme, now with 90% less mistakes thanks to my awesome beta **reaperangelique**!  
The original request was to write about "A Week in the Sexual Life of X", and I decided to give it a try with Austria as character. This is the first time since 3 years I wrote a fanfiction all by myself, so I may be a bit rusty. Also, English isn't my first language, so if you still get the feeling something reads odd, feel free to tell me =)  
Enjoy! ^_^

* * *

**Montag, 26. Juli 2010**

**Liebes Tagebuch,**

it feels strange to write these lines even though I know I'm talking to an inanimate object.  
I never really understood the purpose of diaries.  
What's the purpose of recording every day of your life?  
I remember the important things anyway, even if I don't write them down.  
However, my therapist, who I started visiting some time ago, thinks it would do me good.  
He said it would be better to write down my anger instead of expressing it in formless music.  
Formless!  
My music!  
No one ever dared to tell me that.  
Philistine.  
He also said my behavior over the last centuries was very burdening and a diary would help me to sort myself out and digest past events.  
But do I really want that?  
I feel good.  
Very good, actually.  
Can't remember a time when I felt any better.  
I have an easygoing life, a job, a house, enough money and a much fullfilled love life.  
Well.  
"Fullfilled sex life" may be the better term here.  
At least that's what my therapist would say.  
Ah, well, no, he probably wouldn't.  
He would call it plain chaos.  
I think.  
He'd be capable of saying something like that.  
He's just a human after all.  
He'll never be able to fully grasp the complexity of a nation.

I am over with two marriages already.  
The first one was the result of some contradictions and he as well as I deny until today there ever existed something like an engagement.  
My second matrimony was also an expedient, though it came to be under very different circumstances.  
I always thought we were truly meant to be, Elizaveta and I.  
That our relationship would last forever.  
She liked me, I liked her.  
We were happy.  
Everything was perfect.  
But that's how life goes, nothing lasts forever.  
She was wonderful, I just wasn't good enough for her.  
I couldn't forget my past and I had to take the consequences for it.  
There are many reasons why we broke up.  
Officially it was the war, but that can only be called half the truth.  
However.  
Whatever caused our break up in the end, I'll never forget her.  
Besides, we're still very good friends!  
Even though I sometimes have the feeling it's a bit of an abusive friendship.  
Sometimes it seems Elizaveta only cares for my body and not me.  
Well.  
At least she has one thing in common with my newest "fling".

Newest may be the wrong word.  
Gilbert and I have known each other for quite some time now.  
A very long time actually.  
Too long.  
Longer than I prefer.  
You might say Gilbert became a part of my life.  
A state I'd rather have avoided if I had been able to.  
Everything I've ever felt for this man is a deep rooted disgust.  
Hate.  
A hate that already arises if I only think about him.  
But it's exactly this hate that triggers something in me, something that tells me: That's him.  
It's him you want by your side, around you… inside you.  
Him and nobody else.  
Even though his whole way of being is just plain repulsive.  
His manner, his behavior, his ego… well, maybe not his appearance.  
He's attractive, I can't deny that.  
But that's not the point here.  
The point is Gilbert is the last person on earth I want to be alone with.  
Yet still our paths cross again and again.  
And usually these encounters end in sex.  
It's a vicious circle.

I'm tired.

**Dienstag, 27. Juli 2010**

**Liebes Tagebuch,**

I turn to you after my second cup of Melange.  
I was skeptical if I should actually write something at all, but I guess my therapist would get upset if I broke my promise.  
Even though I'm not sure if he's even allowed to take a look at this book.  
I mean, it's private after all.  
But just in case he wants to see it, I at least will prove I put effort into this.  
I still doubt it'll help me much though, but I guess it can't be helped.  
Let's focus on the actual subject.

Last night was mind blowing.  
But like the Hindenburg the end was painful, sobering and sudden.  
Gilbert decided to take advantage of the small chance I provided him and treat me like his personal toy for the rest of the night.  
And if I didn't know it was my own fault… no, if I didn't know I downright provoked him, I'd be very disappointed with myself.  
Even though I should have known where this would end the moment I decided to visit him last night.  
I had just intended to hand in the papers I promised Ludwig weeks ago.  
Much to my dismay the only one present when I arrived was his big brother.  
Though, to be honest, something in me hoped Ludwig wouldn't be home.  
In reality these papers were just an excuse to see _him._  
Pathetic, isn't it?  
I never really expected much of this evening.  
But when Gilbert opened the door he had this particular smile on his lips, this grin he always smiles when his mood promptly rises.  
And this usually means something bad.

At first, the evening started quite uneventful.  
I left the papers on Ludwig's desk, had a cup of coffee.  
We talked a bit.  
Well, if you can call it "talking" at all.  
Gilbert isn't my preferred opponent for a reasonable discussion.  
I didn't want to stay long.  
I already was on my way out when I he spoke up.  
"You know specs, your excuses get lamer every time. If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is tell me."  
I can still hear him like he's standing next to me.  
I should have ignored him.  
I should have gone.  
Should.  
Instead I gave in.  
Had secretly wished he would stop me from leaving.  
I just can't resist his challenges.  
It's probably my old pride rekindling every time we clash.  
It's always been like that.  
He provokes, I react.  
I just can't let him get away with his insults.  
Although I know he's right with his assumptions.  
Although I know I'll come off only second best in a fight.  
But maybe I'm expecting just that.  
That he subdues me.  
That he dominates me.  
At least he seems to have a lot of fun with it.  
And as much as I hate to admit, it grants me a certain satisfaction.  
When he uses me.  
When he plays with me.  
When I feel him deep inside me, when I scream his name at the top of my lungs and his sharp nails leave unhealthy red marks on my skin.  
Yes, that's what I wanted when I went to visit him.  
We don't hold back in nights like these.  
There are no endearments, no feelings, nothing.  
Just wild, unrestrained sex.  
And only the familiar feeling of pain inside me reminds me these things really happened last night.  
On the other hand, I wouldn't mind if I couldn't remember a thing.  
To be honest, I'd really prefer that.

**Mittwoch, 28. Juli 2010**

**Liebes Tagebuch,**

it's hard that I can't put my feelings and thoughts into the comforting and familiar sounds of my beloved music anymore.  
I really miss it.  
Not that I won't play the piano anymore.  
But since I'm writing everything what depresses me down, I see no particular meaning in additionally dealing with my problems when I make music.  
Unfortunately I'm a creature of habit and so I sure notice this sudden revulsion.  
It's like a gap opened out of nowhere and I'm not able to cross it.  
But my therapist told me everything is fine and I shouldn't worry about it.  
This is just a sort of isolation.  
He said I'm well on the way to get away from the compulsion to express my anger through music.  
Like this I'd learn how to open up to people again instead of bottling everything up.  
And my "complex" love life would finally turn normal again.  
I'm not noticing any differences yet though.  
All I notice are these gruesome throbbing headaches and the unexplainable urge to eat Black Forest cake.  
I assume these are some kind of side effects, as silly as it may sound.  
Sometimes I wish I never started talking about my love life in my sessions.  
Then everything would be good and I would just continue to play my music and not bother with writing everything into this stupid book.  
I wonder why I even continue.  
I could stop.  
Just like that.  
It's probably my conscientiousness that keeps me from giving up on this.

By the way, Ludwig came for a visit today.  
He thanked me for the papers I handed in yesterday.  
In his… very own peculiar way.  
I don't want to go into detail here.  
But one thing I can say for sure.  
Most of the time Ludwig may be the complete opposite of his brother, but sometimes it's just so obvious they are related you'd have to be totally ignorant not to notice.  
It was… familiar but completely different.  
Not as primitive.  
More sensitive.  
Completely matter-of-fact, yes, but very tender.  
To be honest I didn't think Ludwig was capable of behaving like this.  
I remembered him to be… rougher.  
Maybe Feliciano has something to do with this?  
Probably.

**Donnerstag, 29. Juli 2010**

**Liebes Tagebuch,**

I'm afraid my concerns slowly turn out to be true.  
Not only that I frequently catch myself staring after my fellow male nations more often than necessary.  
That's nothing really new anymore.  
No, but I'm also noticing that long forgotten feelings slowly start to arise anew.  
Feelings I thought had disappeared a long time ago.  
Or that I at least had suppressed far enough as to not have to deal with them again.  
Today's world conference taught me better though.  
How?  
Well.  
First, the small gap between Vash's thighs was by far more interesting than his presentation.  
I don't even remember what the subject of his speech was.  
Second, I caught myself gazing slowly from his eyes to in between his legs more than once and imagining things that definitely don't belong at a conference table.  
I for one find this very alarming.

I always saw Vash as a kind of brother.  
I mean, back in the days when we were still young, we did everything together.  
We practically grew up together.  
He always helped me when I needed him.  
He was always there for me.  
I even dare say it was the best and most carefree time of my life.  
Until that one day.  
1st August 1291.  
I know I screwed up a lot of things at that time.  
I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I hardly had another choice.  
Besides, I was still young and inexperienced.  
Easy to manipulate.  
That was my weak spot.  
In the end I not only lost the land, but also I also lost my best friend.  
And everything that was left were only memories of better times.  
We continued living side by side, but it was nothing like it was before.  
Of course it wasn't.  
I could see in his eyes how much he loathed me every time we accidentally met.  
It hurt.  
It hurt so very much.  
I really missed him.  
There were so many times when I wished I could just go back in time and undo what I did to him.  
And finally, some day, I realized I always felt more for him than mere friendship.  
Unfortunately such insights always hit you when it's already too late.

Vash doesn't talk much to me since that incident.  
Not when there's no need to.  
And when he does, he's always cold and restrained, though he's mostly covering it with his bad temper.  
I can understand that he's angry at what happened, but one would think after over 700 years you would be able to talk reasonably about it.  
Seems like Vash doesn't share this view.  
But that's just like him.  
He always was one to bear grudges.  
And who was overly stubborn.  
Though I'd never thought he would turn so bitter.  
That's why I never told him anything.  
He'd probably just yell at me.  
Or shoot me right on the spot.  
But then I also thought these feelings would simply disappear someday.  
I always told myself it was just a phase.  
How wrong I've been.  
But I guess it can't be helped.

**Freitag, 30. Juli 2010**

**Liebes Tagebuch,**

today I had a very unpleasant insight.  
I hate to be watched while having hot, passionate sex.

Gilbert approached me after the world conference.  
He wanted to talk to me, he said.  
Tch.  
As if it ever was "just talking" with him.  
"Bothering" would be the more accurate term to describe what he did.  
Or should I say "trying to wrap me around his little finger"?  
Whatever you may call it, much to my regret it worked.  
He told me Ludwig would have to go on a trip right after the conference, because he has to attend some kind of state dinner.  
That we'd have the whole house for us alone.  
If I wanted to join him and have a cozy evening.  
Just him and I.  
Of course, being the idiot I am, I fell right into his trap.  
Again.  
If I had known where this would end I would never have agreed to go with him.  
Turned out he didn't tell me the whole truth.  
In the end it was neither a cozy evening nor were we alone.  
But I'm hardly one to complain, it's my own fault after all.  
Why do I always have to fall for his cheap tricks?  
I should have taken into consideration that with Gilbert, you always have to reckon that things won't turn out as you expect them to be.  
And he has no qualms about suppressing facts if he gains an advantage from it.  
For example he never mentioned that Ludwig didn't take the dogs along with him.  
And truth to be told, my definition of an erotic, or "cozy" as Gilbert put it so nicely, evening doesn't involve having Aster, Blackie and Berlitz sitting next to the bed when I'm sleeping with their master.  
I also don't count having a wet dog's tongue licking over my face while I orgasm as cozy.  
Gilbert didn't seem to mind too much though.  
Well, of course he didn't.  
He was spared this feeling of sheer disgust after all.  
Now I know why I don't own any pets.

**Samstag, 01. August 2010**

**Liebes Tagebuch,**

today was a very trying day.  
I'm slowly starting to get used to you, dear diary.  
I even thought about giving you a name.  
Stupid, isn't it?  
I don't know either.  
I still see no point in keeping a diary.  
I really wonder what my therapist expects of this.

But let's continue with more important things, shall we?  
After I successfully managed to sneak out of Ludwig's house before the dogs could wake up Gilbert and he in turn could keep me in any way from leaving, I was mildly surprised to find a letter from Bern at home.  
And it wasn't some standardized formal letter of some random government department of my 'beloved' neighboring country Switzerland either.  
No, it was an invitation, much to my astonishment.  
At first I thought it only was a nice touch from Lili, but when I read the letter I realized it really came personally from Vash.  
So it was a nice touch from Lili after all, only approved by Vash's signature.  
I suppose she added the recipients later to not cause any controversies with her brother.

I thought for a long time whether I should attend the party.  
After all, my visit would hit the boundaries of historical cynicism quite hard.  
It may not have been such a big event like the American Revolutionary War or the fall of the Berlin Wall, but this incident was important for _us_.  
The red ribbon we used to hold onto as children, no, which we fought for, which we protected by all means, we lost sight of it on that day in a split second.  
We still hold onto it, like the children we once were.  
But today the strings that once connected us come to nothing, where reproaches and accusations linger.  
It never was and, despite the long time that has passed, it never will be easy to deal with it, let alone talk about what happened, what we lost.  
He was my soul and I was his heart, after all.  
Today it's Lili who connects the ends of our strings so we won't lose sight of each other.  
I'm more than grateful to her.  
And even if I'm not sure why, I hope Vash sees it just as I do, despite our many disputes.

So in the end I decided to accept the invitation and attend the party.  
It may or may not be a wise decision, but I guess that lies in the eyes of the beholder.  
Well, I'm going to get ready for my departure now.  
Wish me luck, dear diary, that this evening won't turn out to be a disaster.

**Sonntag, 02. August 2010**

**Liebes Tagebuch,**

I don't have the slightest clue what happened last night.

No, wrong.  
To be honest I know fairly well what happened last night.  
What we did.  
With whom I did it.  
I just wish I couldn't remember.

The evening started out so promising.  
Vash wasn't very happy to see me, but that was to be expected.  
Even if I have to say he did a great job in staying inconspicuous and acted very friendly and polite.  
The steely glance in his eyes every time he looked at me, however, told another story.  
I knew exactly how much he hated that I was there.  
I ignored his silent teasing and just smiles at him, act as I didn't notice him.  
I probably managed to push him over the edge with this behavior.

Gilbert and Ludwig were also attending.  
I spend most of the evening with them to avoid further trouble.  
Unfortunately those two aren't able to spend such an evening without alcohol.  
I guess I can justifiably assume they bear part of the blame for the further outcome of that night.  
It was them who talked me into drinking more than necessary after all.  
Not that it was much more than usually.  
I know my limit.  
But it was sufficient enough to make me feel more 'relaxed'.  
And it seems I didn't have myself fully under control.  
No, I _didn't_ have myself fully under control.  
Otherwise I surely would have noticed that at some point I started starring blatantly at Vash's ass.  
And of course nobody had the kindness to point it out to me.  
No, Vash had to approach me personally about it.  
Well, "scream at me" would summarize it better I guess.  
God, that was embarrassing.

I moved outside for the rest of the evening and mused about if it really was a clever idea to attend the party.  
A blind man could see that I wasn't welcome after all.  
I have to say I was mildly surprised when Vash appeared and silently took a seat on the stairs next to me.  
He obviously searched for me.  
I didn't ask him why.  
Maybe he felt remorse?  
Unlikely.

I don't remember for how long we just sat there and didn't say a word.  
At some time the silence became a question, the question was followed by a conversation.  
If someone would ask me how long it had been since Vash and I talked like that, just an ordinary conversation, without reproaches or mordancy, I wouldn't be able to give an answer.  
I was surprised myself.  
But it did me good.  
It gave me the feeling that not everything between us was hopeless, that there still existed something like normality.  
A nice thought.

We talked for hours.  
The moon had wandered quite far on the panoply of stars when we finally got up.  
Even in the dim light that emitted from the house I could see the slight gleam in his green eyes.  
Green eyes that never fail to amaze me.  
He seemed to be preoccupied in thoughts, no word left his lips.  
Only a faint blush that found its way onto his cheeks.  
It amazed me, but I was too distracted to think about such unimportant trivialities.  
Now that I think about it, it nearly was a small wonder.  
But at that time it simply was of no importance at all.

Maybe it was our loneliness that lead us to act like this, maybe it was a very special way of dealing with all the sorrow and pain of the past.  
Maybe it was just the alcohol speaking.  
It was a mere glance, a small touch, an inconsiderable gesture.  
I even was able to get a smile out of him.  
A genuine smile.  
A kiss.  
It was desperate.  
Wild and ruthless, yet tender and passionate.  
Like the night that followed.

I'm not even sure how we managed to make our way to the bedroom.  
Or if anyone saw us.  
If the people were whispering behind our backs.  
Or if they laughed.  
It didn't matter.  
He was everything that mattered to me, the lust, the desire to hold him, explore him, feel him.  
And something in his behavior told me he felt the same way.  
We didn't even bother to be quiet.

I don't want to question the who and why.  
We made a silent agreement last night and we will likewise pass this event tacitly.  
When he wakes up everything will be back to normal again.  
He will yell at me and throw me out of the bed, he will complain about what the hell I'm doing in his bedroom and then he will remember what happened last night between us.  
And he will continue yelling, with a red face out of ire and shame.  
But until that happens I will just sit here and watch him sleep.  
Because when he sleeps he's still the little boy with whom I once shared a friendship we thought would never break.

I lied when I said I didn't want to remember this night in the beginning.  
Actually I never want to forget it.  
But something inside me feels a kind of reluctance.  
Maybe because I pride myself on this too much.  
Maybe because this night is meaningless.  
A faint moment of hope that everything could be alright again.  
Tch.  
How pathetic.  
Vash would laugh at me if he'd read this.  
Maybe I just think too much.  
Assign too much meaning to an incident like this.  
Maybe that's my problem.  
Maybe I'm completely wrong.  
And yes, maybe keeping a diary wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

**Footnotes**

The dates range from Monday, 26th July to Sunday, 2nd August. I used the German way to write the dates here.

Liebes Tagebuch = Dear Diary

The Hindenburg was a German rigid airship. Austria is referring the incident that happened on May 6, 1937, where it was destroyed by a fire after its first transatlantic journey to North America.

The 1. August is Switzerlands national day aka Vash's birthday.


End file.
